Notes

Day 3 of my simultaneous ear infection and strep throat. The internet has lied to me, it said by the 3rd day of antibiotics I should start feeling better BUTT in reality, I feel worse than ever. This headache is splitting, the ears aren't popping, throat and mouth numb with medicine that's supposed to help but really is making me feel less and less attached to this plane of existence. On my deathbed, I am reminded to when I was six and stuck a hanger in my left ear, the same one that has now claimed my life, and twisted it around. "Because my ear was itchy" was the excuse I gave to my life bringer when she asked oh so exasperated "why". In reality, I had just done it for the hell of it. playing with fate my young naive self, unknown to pain and consequences, saw the hanger and thought it would fit great in my ear, twisting it just to show how perfectly it fit. The doctors told me I might go deaf from the injuries. I still remember staring at the wall listening to the faint humming as the only noise that would enter that broken little ear. Just like now as I stare at the ceiling listening to that same faint humming taunting me. My ear got better that time, the doctors were wrong and all the tears I shed over my loss of hearing were wasteful. Unlike then however, I fear I won't make such a recovery. I feel as this is truly the end for my pitiful existence. I wish I could say I lived a fulfilling life, however that is not the case. So much of it spent in this god forsaken bed wasting my youth. Reminded to when I was young, held up inside having tea parties alone while the other kids played tag. Even now my peers are out having fun, while I rot in this horrid bed. Making art I hoped would reach the world and give me the love and adoration I so deeply desired, but in reality, it never left my very small corner. They say art is only ever truly appreciated in death however, I fear I did not have enough time to make a piece that is truly appreciable. Now on my deathbed I see myself as the true failure I am, I claim if given a second chance surely, I would not waste my life. But in reality, I know better. If I were to wake up tomorrow completely fine, I would go back to my meaningless existence. I never even dated, the only love I ever found was for art, not even for myself did I show love as clearly these illnesses are my body's retribution for its mistreatment. Truly life is such woes. this is really the dumps. My final wish dear reader, is that my tombstone be put in the shape of a mirror ball and carved in stone the words, "The sun shined brighter when she was here" as proof of my dedication and passions in life.
Arrivederci losers. ~Alexandrea

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